


Long-Distance Call (Or The One Where Dwalin And Ori Have Phone Sex)

by Moosie



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cheesy starter lines, Cliche pet names, Dwalin is a sap, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Ori can be seductive if he wants, Phone Sex, shameless porn, they miss each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moosie/pseuds/Moosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What-what are you wearing?”</p><p>The ice breaker question made Ori erupt into giggles.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said aloud, “You just caught me off guard.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long-Distance Call (Or The One Where Dwalin And Ori Have Phone Sex)

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm getting kinda into Dwalin/Ori. I wrote this entire thing in my spiral notebook and then stayed up for an hour at 2 am to type it up and post it.

He’s been away on a business trip for a week already. Ori wished he’d come home already. The company would survive with only Thorin; it wouldn’t go up in flames the moment Dwalin left. But no, being vie-president meant that he had to suffer through meetings that lasted seven or eight hours during the day, and then go out with all the stuffy business men he hated for a “drink” at night before bed.

Which left Ori at home to suffer by himself.

Now, don’t get him wrong. Ori didn’t mind being at home, finishing up and starting knitting projects or finally finishing a book he’s been trying to read for the last two months. But their huge apartment starts to feel lonely after two or three days, and no amount of books or projects would ever be able to change that.

They called each other of course. Every day, in the morning, in the afternoon, and at night. Ori knew that the calls couldn’t really cure the loneliness, but they helped, especially when he’s noticed how large their bed is without Dwalin in it. That’s also when he usually makes a second night call to his husband.

Dwalin appreciates those calls, he really does. He’s only three or four hours behind Ori, time wise, but they’re still on the same internal clock, where Dwalin is usually collapsing in bed at eleven p.m. Ori’s time, eight p.m. his time. And at exactly three a.m. Ori’s time, one a.m. his time, he wakes up again, because that’s when Ori usually gets out of bed for this or that reason. That’s also when Ori calls him again.

Today, however, is different.

They’ve both been a little frustrated recently, having not seen each other in a week and a half. They’ve started making promises during the middle of the day about what they’d do when Dwalin got home. Talking to each other in husky, deep, voices. Saying things that shouldn’t be repeated in good company. So they decided to set up a date of sorts. A phone sex date.

To start, Ori made sure he was comfortable. Instead of his own clothing, he pulled on one of Dwalin’s old shirts, a gray gym tee with “Erebor High” written on it in fading purple letters with a miner on the front of it as the mascot. The shirt was so infused with Dwalin’s scent that no matter how many times they wash it the smell that is pure _Dwalin_ never goes away. It’s been one of Ori’s favourite shirts the last few days. Somehow, though, it’s different wearing it now. They’re going to be having phone sex. He’s going to masturbate in his husband’s shirt. The knowledge makes him feel…naughty.

At exactly three a.m., Ori’s phone rings. The name “Love Muffin” pops up on it along with a picture of Dwalin in a pig costume holding his six year old nephew Fíli along with his other three year old nephew, Kíli, both children smiling huge smiles. Ori took a breath and then answered it.

“Hello?”

“Ori,” Dwalin’s gruff voice came through the line loud and clear.

“Dwalin,” Ori sighed in relief, a smile tugging at his lips.

“How’ve you been?” Dwalin sounds just as nervous and embarrassed as Ori feels. It warms Ori from the inside out.

“I’m—I’m fine. Yourself?” Gosh, he sounded like a teenager.

“Good, good…” Dwalin trailed off, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence for a while. Ori was about to speak when Dwalin cut in rather suddenly.

“What-what are you wearing?”

The ice breaker question made Ori erupt into giggles, if only because it was such a cheesy thing to start with. Ori could practically _feel_ the blush on the other end of the line, and he smiled apologetically, even if Dwalin couldn’t see it.

“Sorry,” he said aloud, “You just caught me off guard.”

“Right,” Dwalin huffed a laugh of his own. They were quiet for a bit before—

“One of your shirts.”

“What?” Dwalin sounded surprised to hear him speak.

“I’m wearing one of your shirts,” Ori repeated, and now he was blushing again. “Your old gym shirt.”

“The one from high school?” Dwalin was grinning on the other end of the line now, if only because he had known exactly what shirt Ori had been talking about. “Anything else?”

“No. Just your shirt,” Ori shifted a bit on the bed.

“Touch yourself for me,” Dwalin ordered, the image he put together turning him on already.

Ori turned a darker shade of red but began to do as told. Just as he was prepared to put his hands on his flaccid penis, Dwalin’s voice crackled through the line again.

“Not your cock,” he said, making Ori pause, “Don’t just jump right in.”

Ori hesitated, wondering what it was Dwalin wanted him to do.

“Do it like I would,” his husband said when he’d asked, “Run your hands over your thighs. Slowly.”

Ori held the phone between his ear and shoulder, reaching down with both hands and rubbing his hands in slow circles on his thighs. It was simple pleasure, the feeling soothing and helping him to relax, and he sighed gently.

“Move in slowly. Don’t touch yet.”

Ori made a soft noise in the back of his throat as his hands began to run over the more sensitive part of his thighs, the softer, more pliant inside. He closed his eyes, imagining that it was Dwalin’s hands touching him instead of his own. He imagined his husband sitting next to him, whispering softly in his ear.

“Has one of those hands wandered up yet? Touch your chest for me.” Dwalin’s breathing sounded ragged, letting Ori know that he was just as turned on as Ori was.

He did what his husband wanted him to do and trailed up his chest, the shirt riding up with his fingers as he circled his fingers around a single dusky nipple. He moaned and gave it a gentle tug. A tiny whimper left him when Dwalin told him to stop and just run his fingers over it. Dwalin knew his husband so well, he didn’t even need to see him to know exactly what he had been doing.

“Tell me what you want, sweet heart,” Dwalin’s voice was softer now.

“Want…” Ori’s breath hitched at the groan Dwalin let out. “Want to touch…”

“You want to touch what?” Ori squirmed, even more embarrassed than before, not wanting to say it aloud. Dwalin was waiting however, and he knew that if he didn’t Dwalin would just poke and prod until he did.

“Want to touch… m-my c-cock…” he breathed, the words sounding so dirty in his mind.

“What are you waiting for then?” Dwalin’s smirk was _audible,_ if that made any sense, and Ori turned even redder, almost matching his hair now. With a tentative hand, he reached down and wrapped it around his hard arousal. Ge gasped at the feeling, a clear rivulet of pre-cum beading at the head. Dwalin responded with a deep, throaty moan of his own, and Ori could hear the sound of shifting fabric in the background. He found a devious little smile crossing his features.

“Are you imagining me?” he asked coyly, “Picturing me reaching over and wrapping my smaller fingers around you?”

Dwalin’s groan of pleasure made shivers run up Ori’s spine and his manhood twitch in his hand.

“You know I simply couldn’t resist leaning over and getting a taste. You liked when I do that… d-don’t you?” The question was supposed to sound seductive, but the way Ori asked it sounded innocent and hesitant, and Dwalin wondered why he hadn’t come immediately.

“You know I do. And while you’re doing that, I like to reach over and get a few fingers in you, yeah?” Dwalin’s hand sped up on his own cock.

There was the sound of movement and then a cap popping open, which made Dwalin aware of the fact that Ori had grabbed the lube from their bedside drawer. A sharp intake of breath meant that he was slowly pushing a finger or two into himself, the image of Ori doing so making Dwalin groan. He then heard the sounds of skin moving against skin, and the sound of Ori moaning, as loud and clear through the phone as if he were there. Dwalin pumped himself in time with Ori’s moans, almost to his climax before he heard Ori muffle a shout of pleasure which signified his orgasm.

Dwalin wished he’d reached his own when Ori had, and was sad that he hadn’t. That is, until the sound of a text message coming in had him pulling his phone away from his ear to look at it. The message was from “buttercup.”  Ori. Dwalin opened the message and was ashamed at how suddenly his orgasm hit him, hard and fast and knocking the breath from his chest.

The picture was of Ori, of course. He had taken a “selfie” of himself, from an above angle. He was smiling that shy, after-sex, smile he saved for Dwalin only, his stomach and part of Dwalin’s shirt streaked with cum, the tube of lube sitting open on the bed next to him. The soft light of the bedside lamp made him look like an angel of sorts. Dwalin wanted to burn the image into the back of his eyelids.

“Honey?”

Dwalin was reminded that Ori was still on the line, and he only used that pet name for Dwalin when he felt like he’d done something wrong—which he most definitely hadn’t.

“I’m still here. That was fantastic,” Dwalin let out a long, relieved sort of sigh. He hadn’t really masturbated since his teen years in high school, but the thing he’d just experienced was second only to the real thing.

“Was it?” Ori was smiling on the other end, squirming a bit on the bed. He had taken the picture in the heat of the moment and regretted it the moment it had sent. Now, though, he didn’t.

“Yeah. Haven’t cum that hard from my own in years,” Dwalin snorted, grinning now.

Ori huffed a laugh, his smile growing.

“I love you,” he said suddenly. Dwalin’s grin turned into a softer smile.

“I love you too. I’ve gotta go clean up. Thorin’ll be back from his date in a little while,” he replied. That peaked Ori’s interest, even as he agreed with the clean-up sentiment.

“Oh? Mr. Grumpy got an actual date with someone?” he asked.

“Surprised me too. I’ll tell you more in the morning, alright? You need to sleep.”

Now it was Ori’s turn to snort at his husband.

“Coming from the one that has a meeting in the morning!” he reminded.

Dwalin grumbled about the stubborn old fools that argued with everything. Each business proposal he and Thorin had come up with, they had said they didn’t like this or that about it, tore it apart and pieced back into something that was nowhere near his or Thorin’s original idea. And the prissy dolts thought they’d actually get away with it! Ori’s smiled widened a bit and he shook his head.

“If they don’t give tomorrow, we’re coming home the day after, the deal be damned,” Dwalin said now. That made Ori sit up a little straighter.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, really. Thorin’s patience is finally beginning to thin out.” Ori wondered how it hadn’t already. “I’ll call you in the morning, alright?”

Ori hummed. Dwalin looked around, making sure no one was watching him (how could anyone be, he was in the hotel room by himself!) before kissing the phone. Ori repeated the action on the other end.

“I love you,” Dwalin said this time.

“I love you too. I’ll see you when you come home,” Ori sighed.

“Yeah.” Dwalin didn’t like hanging up first, but neither did Ori, and Ori could out-stubborn him. Just as he was prepared to press the end button, Ori spoke again.

“Dwalin?”

“Yeah?”

“Come home soon.”

“I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was literally lying on my mattress on the floor in my aunt's living room in her apartment with my cousins when the idea of phone sex hit me, and at first I was gonna make it Thilbo but then I was like "No it would be better if it was Dwori" and the original idea originally went like this on paper:
> 
> "What are you wearing?"  
> "Really? You're starting with that? It's so cheesy."  
> "Yeah, well... you still haven't answered my question."  
> "Fine. I'm wearing one of your shirts."  
> "And?"  
> "And... nothing else..."  
> "Really now?"  
> "Yes. It smells like you. I miss you."
> 
> And then I turned the page and started the actual story. See the little bits of plot in there? Yeah that's to season the porn a bit, ya know, to make sure it isn't tasteless or anything.


End file.
